A House Divided
by Marcus Gaudry
Summary: A '7 Pillars' story. Early in the Praxis of Therese Vooreman; Clan Brujah is beginning to fall apart and Primogen Tyler struggles with his decision to back the Camarilla when he is approached with an alternative. Also, it is starting to appear as if a government agency devoted to hunting Kindred is setting up shop in downtown LA. NOTE: Please read VTMB 10 years later as reference.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 _Tyler:  
This is to acknowledge that I have indeed received your notification of interest in our activities here in the Fraser Valley of British Columbia. I apologize for the delay in my response, but there have been difficulties here of late; we recently uncovered a Sabbat pack which was attempting to open an avenue by which their brethren could stage an incursion upon our nascent Free State, thereby undoing all the work we have put into creating this new system which has already made considerable progress in allowing us to live completely autonomously from the Ivory Tower. Also, I would be a liar if I did not admit that I was, at first, wary when a Primogen expressed an interest in our way of unlife; even if that Primogen is of the Brujah Clan..._

Tyler DeFaulte, Primogen of the Brujah Clan of Los Angeles, was beginning to think he would never live down his choice to support the Camarilla. True, his intention was to place himself in a position to affect change from within, but it was quickly becoming clear that was unlikely to happen; not while that Lunatic Therese Vooreman was in Praxis. How he managed to talk so many of his Clan to go along, he had no idea. What he did know was that lately that support was waning, and waning fast. There was a rapidly growing divide within his Clan, and more and more it seemed he was powerless to do anything about it.

About three months ago, Xavier Vega came up to him after a meeting of the Council. X was in a similar boat as he was; though the divide in his Clan was not as overt as his own. In some ways, Tyler figured the situation X had on his hands was worse; at least Tyler was able to pinpoint who he had to contend with. In the Toreador Clan, everything was always so subtle; everything was done with innuendo and spoken from two sides of the mouth. When Xavier came to him, he handed him a thumbdrive.

"Take a look at this, Tye," Xavier had said, "I think it might be worth checking out."

When he asked what it was, X just advised it was best he see for himself.

Tyler took the drive and had a look. The contents on the drive were from some dude who called himself 'Architect Russell Norton' from some place in the middle of nowhere, British Columbia. It looked to Tyler like some kind of revision of the Camarilla, except modelled after a Republic system; one where each State was independent to run things as they each saw fit, but were networked together for the benefit of all. This Norton dude called it the 'Libertarian Republic' or alternately, the 'Marble Hall.' Out of curiosity or desperation or maybe a bit of both, Tyler sent an inquiry for more information. Three months later, which was now, the letter he was now reading, came to his drop box a block away from the Hollowbrook Hotel.

 _...and I was all the more wary when I noticed that I had two inquiries from the same city, both from Primogen. I'm quite certain you will understand my caution, and see why I had to make sure this wasn't some kind of set up. As it would happen, we all have a common friend in your Clansman 'Smiling' Jack. He vouched for both Primogen Xavier Vega and you; explaining that in your youth and idealistic thinking you were under the impression that the Ivory tower could be changed from within its ranks. Trust me, this mistake is nothing to be ashamed of; I made it once myself. When I saw the error of that thinking for what it was, I began to rethink my options. That you are showing interest in our work here, I feel it safe to presume that both you and Mr. Vega have come to a similar conclusion as I had decades ago. That is why I am sending the both of you a copy of this short letter in an effort to answer your questions to you satisfaction. I ask you to please be patient with the means of correspondence I have chosen; part of that Sabbat incursion involved a digital attack, and we are yet to fully recover from it._

 _First, let me express how thrilled I am that our little Forum has captured your attention! I was aware that the Libertarian Republic was slowly gaining ground in smaller communities across Canada, but yours is the first American inquiry we have received, and most certainly the first major Metropolis –other than maybe a small, secret faction in Vancouver – to express any interest..._

"Hey, whatchya got there, Tye?"

Tyler quickly folded the letter and stuffed it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Before he shared this information with anyone, even – or especially – Damsel, he wanted to read it all the way through, review it, and maybe compare notes with Xavier. It wasn't that he didn't trust her. He did; with his life. It actually felt downright weird not sharing everything with her, but she was Sheriff and that meant she had some specific duties, so keeping this out of her sight was currently an evil necessity. Before pursuing anything, he and X would have to determine if this Russ Norton guy was on the level, and if what he was selling was legit. Until then, if this kind of information got out, it could place both of them in some serious danger on grounds of conflict of interest. Tyler was barely able to convince himself he was protecting her.

"Oh, it's nothing." He replied, "Just some stupid Primogen crap."

Damsel laughed. "Hey, it's your own fault you have to deal with that; you started the whole effort to change the Tower from within." She said. "Now it's on you play the Cammie game."

"Yeah, I know," Tyler muttered, satisfied that she bought his line. It wasn't exactly a lie; or at least he kept telling himself that it wasn't.

The absolute truth of the matter was that he didn't really blame those in the Clan that objected to his effort. Each night it was becoming more and more evident that the idea changing or renovating the Ivory Tower was a delusion; the problem was he was stuck in a rut now. Both he and Xavier were realizing that now. The aggravating part was that it wasn't even Prince Therese that was the problem. Sure, she was completely out of her mind and just as likely to burn the entire city to a cinder as she was to keep it stable, but forcing her to abdicate wouldn't solve a damn thing. For one thing, that Ventrue son of a bitch Cameron Hastings would stand a good chance at seizing Praxis, and that would be just like LaCroix all over again, or worse. But even that wasn't the real problem.

The real problem, as Nines used to say, was the entire Pyramid scheme that was the Camarilla system; nobody but those at the very top of the pyramid had any real power, and it was designed to remain that way.

"Well, we better get moving if we're going to make it the garden in time for the little party that Cammie is throwing for his little stripper girl-toy." Damsel commented.

"Oh, right," Tyler replied trying to sound as if he forgot that was the point of tonight's gathering. "Kaila's embrace date party." It was instantly evident that Damsel didn't buy it, but was willing to let it go.

"God, I hate that skank." She spat. "I'd vomit all over her pretty little red slippers if I could."

Tyler let out a burst of laughter. Same old Damsel; always had some colorful way to express her attitude and intentions towards others.

"Okay, tough girl," he said, "Let's get a move on." Letting her lead, the pair soon found themselves outside the Hollowbrook. "Oh, hey; have heard anything about that recon on that new Fed building yet?" He asked on route to his car in the parking garage. It wasn't actually a new building, exactly; it was a rebuilding of what was left of the Venture tower. It was, apparently being turned into a government headquarters of some kind, though nobody had a clear answer yet as to what it was going to be for.

As if on cue; like something right out of a cheesy pulp fiction series, Archie caught up to them. Archie was one of the more frequently called upon among the Brujah Clan to the duty of Deputy; he was one of the ones that a few of the other Kindred referred to as the 'Task Force'. The Task Force did their job, albeit at times begrudgingly. It was well known it was not for love of the Camarilla, but for love of the city itself that they remained true. It was no secret they were not fans of the Primogen; Archie in particular was wary of him. He was, however, unrelenting in his loyalty to Damsel as Den Mother – Sheriff or not.

"Sheriff, I have an update regarding the feds in the old tower." Archie reported dutifully. One thing to be said for the guy; unless you knew him, his sarcastic take on doing things like this all proper like that would totally escape your notice.

"Well, that's good news," Damsel replied. "So what are you waiting for? You want me to give you permission to speak? Spit it out, Archie."

Looking over his shoulder at Tyler, Archie balked.

"Whatever you have to say is going to get to him anyway. Besides, it's probably something he'll need to take to the Primogen Council anyway."

"Right" Archie said reluctantly. He joined then for the rest of the walk to Tyler's car, filling them in on what the Task Force had uncovered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Entering the Yen-Zen Garden, the first person Tyler encountered after parting ways with Damsel was the guest of honor herself Kaila. As she approached, Tyler glanced around to assess who was there already. At first glance he noted most of the Primogen; Imalia was with Ajax, Marko and Tabetha were off on their own, looking kind of shady, Mike was more listening than talking as Jeanette and Fenris chatted, and Danielle was doing all she could to make a good impression on the Seneschal. Other Kindred were also around; VV was playing hostess, flitting from group to group. Conspicuously absent were Harpy Strauss and Xavier.

"Well if it isn't the girl this whole shindig is all about" Tyler said, trying to sound cool. "And how does the night meet you, Kaila?" His relationship with Damsel was no secret, and it was pretty plain to all that the Sheriff and this particular Toreador did not get along very well.

"It meets me well, Tyler. Thank you." Kaila replied. "I appreciate your coming tonight, even if it's only because your office demands your presence."

"Think nothing of it. Damsel might have a problem with you, but I don't." Tyler reassured her.

"I'm glad to hear it." Kaila smiled. "It's really wonderful that Cameron would set this whole thing up just for me."

"Yeah" Tyler agreed half-heartedly. "Cammie... I mean Cameron's a great guy."

Kaila gazed at him with those enchanting green eyes of hers for a moment, obviously noticing his sarcasm in his last remark. She finally let it pass.

"Listen," she said. "I have a message for you from Xavier. He said he had to go for a face to face with somebody named Norton, and that you'd know what that was about. He wanted you to know why he wasn't here. He's cleared me to act as his Proxy in the Council while he was away."

"Does the Prince know about this?"

"Cameron does. Apparently Her Highness will not be attending tonight, so he's her voice at his Gathering."

Tyler rubbed his chin in contemplation, and nodded. "Did Xavier say where this face to face was going to happen?"

"Apparently Norton has holdings near Sumas, Washington."

That gave Tyler cause to pause. Part of Archie's report involved Washington; specifically Seattle. That was one of the other cities where these new government buildings were going up. He never heard of Sumas before, so he had no idea if the two were related. He was planning on getting either Archie or Betty to Proxy for him while he went to Seattle to check things out personally.

"Sumas, huh?" he asked. "Where's that?"

"It's right on the border, near Abbotsford, British Columbia. That's maybe a two hour drive from Seattle."

Tyler calculated in his head if he would have time to make a little detour in his excursion. Deciding he would, he thanked Kaila for the news. "One more thing," he said before Kaila could leave his presence. "Does Cameron happen to know the purpose for X's road trip?"

Kaila grinned, almost knowingly. "I didn't tell him that part." She said. "I presumed it was Clan business, and that Cammie didn't need to know."

"That's great. Thanks, and I guess I'll see you at the Table." Tyler said turning away towards the room designated for the Primogen. Along the way, he saw Strauss enter with another Kindred – he looked very Tremere- and head directly towards Cameron.

Presuming that what Strauss had to say would be made public soon enough, Tyler decided not to worry too much about it. He continued into the room; he was followed in by Just Mike, Kaila, and Imalia shortly after he sat down. Next Marko wandered in; almost accidentally, then Tabetha and Danielle. As they all took their seat at the Table, Cameron finally walked in with his typical swagger; he even took time to brush Kaila as he strutted to the head of the Table. Something was different though; sure, he put up a good front, but it was like his heart wasn't quite into it.

"Gentlemen, ladies," he greeted. Cameron paused, nodded at him, "Big guy; I thank you all for coming tonight. I have decided to sit in on your discussion tonight, as is my right in the stead of her highness. I bring to your attention that Mr. Vega is absent. Allow me to explain.  
"The Primogen of the Rose was called out of town on a Clan matter, so he has appointed our own Kaila of the Toreador to act as proxy on his behalf and I have accepted this appointment." He stole a glance at Kaila. "Do you understand the conditions of your proxy, my dear?"

"I do," she replied. "I understand that as Proxy I have no official voice or vote, and that I am here only to observe and report to my Primogen only."

"That's very good." Cameron sat down casually. "So where shall we begin?"

"I think that should be obvious." Tabetha answered. "What do we know about the developments at the Old Venture Tower?"

"That's a damn good question." Imalia spoke up. "The Nosferatu haven't been able to set one fucking foot into that place. Not even Mitnick has been able to crack their code."

"Damsel and the Brujah have the place staked out." Tyler added. "We can confirm it really is now a Federal building. Based on what at least one of our agents among the Kine has been able to report, we've been able to confirm their security measures are beyond anything on any official records, which explains a lot the reasons we haven't been able to gain any access. It appears to be designed specifically to detect us. Our Clan network reports similar buildings in several cities across the country; at the moment it looks like this is a branch of the NSA originating on the West Coast, most likely Seattle."

Despite how bad the scenario was starting to look, Tyler couldn't help but revel in the fact that Cameron couldn't blame any of this on the Anarchs; most of the West Coast was Camarilla Domain, and even more importantly dominated by the Hastings line of Clan Ventrue. That included Seattle. Even if he wanted to blame it whatever Anarchs may be around, the onus would still fall squarely on the Ivory Tower, especially the Hastings line, for dropping the ball somewhere along the line. Even now, he could see that Cammie was very much aware of this fact, and it was eating him alive.

"Wait a minute." Just Mike interjected. "Are you saying the US government is aware of our existence?"

"At least a branch of it seems to, yes." Tyler confirmed.

"If that's true, then why hasn't it gotten out to the public? Why isn't it all over the news?" Mike asked.

"They're keeping it between the sheets." Marko answered.

"That makes sense." Danielle agreed. "Of course they would want to remain covert on a matter like this. For one thing, if they went public, most of the population would vote them out of office on grounds of insanity, and for another, those who would believe would go into a panic and then they would have two problems on their hands."

"That works in our favor." Imalia pointed out. "At least the Masquerade is intact, even if it's for a different reason. We might be able to use that to our advantage."

Mike asked, "How?"

"We can generate bad press around the new feds," Imalia replied, clearly getting frustrated at having to spell out what she thought obvious. "Look, we can feed the press a bunch of material that makes it look like the feds are creating some kind of secret police force or Gestapo or some shit like that. The people will not like that, and then they will do all the work for us in forcing them out of business."

"Actually, that's not a bad idea." Danielle DeVries concurred. "Then we are removed from any direct involvement altogether."

Cameron raised a hand regally; "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here." He insisted. "While I agree that may well be the ideal first move towards a resolution, I want to be sure we know exactly whom we are dealing with before we do anything. Just how reliable is this intelligence your Clan has gathered, Big Guy? And where does it really come from?"

"Like I said, Seneschal," Tyler retorted. "We've been getting communications from across the country, and most of it seems to originate in Seattle. As to reliability of the information at hand, I'd say it's solid; but believe it or not I'm with you in that I want to see it myself first hand before we do much of anything."

"How do you intend to do that?" Tabetha asked.

"I plan on taking a trip to Seattle to see what they've got going on there. With the Court's permission I'd like to place Betty Ronson as my Proxy while I'm there."

Cameron drummed his fingers on the table, mocking contemplation.

"Your request is denied" he said.

Gritting his teeth in exasperation, Tyler asked "why?"

"We already have one absentee Primogen." Cameron answered in a patronizing manner. "In the event a vote is required, having to absentees would cripple our process even more than it already is."

 _And you would lose your power of having the swing vote._

"Does anyone else have any objections?"

Nobody replied.

"Is there anything else to add to this topic?"

Silence filled the room; so much so that the milling about from the party in the next room could be heard.

"Are there any other topics that need to be looked at?"

"I have one," Marko spoke up. "How long do we expect Harpy Wizard King to be off visiting his Pointy Facts?"

Everyone in the room turned and stared at the Malkavian; everyone except Tabetha. The looks on their faces all said basically the same thing; what the devil are you talking about?

"Harpy Strauss is required to meet with the Pontifex at a set point on a regular cycle, as per our Clan doctrine." Tabetha explained. "It is one of his duties as Regent of our Chantry. He will be gone as long as he is needed in order to complete this duty."

"Not to worry," Cameron stood. "Our Harpy has appointed an apprentice of his to act on his behalf as harpy during his hiatus, and you will all get to meet him later on tonight.

"Now, is there anything else? If not, then shall we close this meeting of the Council and resume the celebration of lovely Kaila's embrace?"

"Fine," Tyler grumbled as he slammed his palms onto the table, stood up abruptly and stormed out of the room without looking back. He quickly scanned the main room to locate Betty and Archie, whom he called over to him. If he couldn't go to Seattle, then he would send someone who could. Besides, Archie might even appreciate the fact that alternatives to the fucking Camarilla are being looked at, so getting them to detour to Sumas might not be a bad idea, either.


	3. Chapter 3

Archie was not impressed with the idea of being shipped off to Seattle; it took a little talking to get him to go. It was a good idea to go to where this Fed thing seems to start in order to figure out how to stop it. He was also skeptical about meeting with some schmuck in Sumas or wherever to talk about some new system to bend the knee to, but he eventually agreed. Tyler expected as much from Archie Doyle.

Betty Ronson was a bit more surprising; she was more upset that she wouldn't be playing proxy Primogen than she was anything else. In fact, getting out of town on a road trip might do her some good, she said. Originally from Oakland, she had never been out of the State, so this might be entertaining, anyway.

The pair packed up quickly and headed out in Archie's beat up old van; straight up the I-5 for starters.

That was last night. When Tyler rose, Damsel was already gone; probably on Patrol. For someone who so deeply resented the Camarilla, she sure took to her job within it, he noted. She wasn't thrilled about being down two good Deputies; especially from her task force, but she understood all too well the strategic necessity of sending the best they could on this recon mission. Last night, Archie pretty much blew it about the Sumas detour; before retiring, Damsel asked Tyler about it.

"Oh, right" Tyler had said casually, as if to wave it off. "X got wind of some alternative system to the Camarilla that's gaining ground in Canada near the border. He's going to make a threat assessment, and asked for a little muscle, just in case." He hated distorting the truth like that, and kind of guessed that Damsel would see right through it.

"He's making a threat assessment." Damsel repeated. "Yeah, we'll call it that. It's a good description." The look on her face told Tyler he was right to guess she saw through him; it also told him she was willing to play along.

Then an idea struck him.

"Yeah, I was gonna go myself, but the Seneschal didn't like the idea of having two proxies on the Council at once. Anyway, since I'm stuck here, I'd thought I'd check out what Jack knows about this so-called new system; X said he heard about through him. I guess Jack might still be a little pissed at me for joining the Clan to the Cammies. Maybe I can make a kind of truce." He suggested.

Damsel nodded. "You do that." She advised.

So now Tyler DeFaulte was stepping into the Last Round, hoping to get a chance to jaw at Jack. The place was still popular among the Brujah who weren't happy about being a Cammie city, so he knew he wasn't going to be the most popular guy in there. Clan was still Clan, so it wasn't likely he'd get jumped, but he might want to keep his head on a swivel anyway.

On entering, he saw the place was pretty much the way he remembered it. The only difference was that last time he step foot in the Last Round he was greeted warmly; this was a place where everybody knew his name and they were always glad he came. Not tonight, though. Nobody really objected openly to his being there, but as he passed by the regulars, they got all quiet and watched him with a suspicious glance. One or two of them would mutter something like

"Look out; it's the big bad Primogen"

Or

"Excuse me if I don't bow and bend knee."

Not that Tyler blamed them; he expected a cold reception. So far he was right that nobody was making a move against him; probably because they knew that other than Jack and maybe Damsel, he could take any one of them. Right now that was his advantage; that and the simple fact that most of the Brujah in here looked down on ganging up on one guy; especially one of their own. He got up the stairs and found Jack at his usual table.

"Well," Jack greeted coolly. "Look who decided to drop in."

"Good evening, Jack," Tyler replied. He pointed at the other chair at the table. "Mind if I sit?"

"Who's stopping you?" Jack asked almost confrontationally. "Or did you forget where you are? This ain't some Camarilla Gathering where you have to ask permission to even look at someone let alone talk to them."

Tyler sat. "Okay, Jack; I get it." He said. "I made a bad call, alright? I really thought the best way to make a difference was from within. I see that's a fool's paradise now."

"I tried to tell you, kiddo."

"I know you did. I guess I just had to learn the hard way." Tyler admitted. He extended his hand across the table. "Call a truce?"

Jack looked at his hand, scrutinizing it for a second before pulling out a cigar and lighting it. Finally he took Tyler's hand and shook it.

"Okay, kiddo; we're cool." Jack agreed. "It's good to know the reality of the Camarilla finally got through that skull of yours. Just warning you, though; just because you made a peace with me don't mean the rest of them are gonna trust you right away. You made this mess, you're the one that's gonna have to clean it up."

"Speaking of that," Tyler replied, "X got in contact with some dude up in Canada that might be able with that – for both our Clans."

"Did he now?" Jack asked, his voice going a little wary.

"He did. The guy said he knows you and that you put in a good word us."

"Really; he said that?"

"Yeah; so I just wanted verification. Do you know an Anarch up in a place called Abbotsford in British Columbia named Russell Norton?"

Jack took a big drag off his cigar and made a smoke ring before answering. "Yeah I know that guy. Why do you want to know?"

"I have a couple of questions about him."

"Sure thing, kiddo; fire away" Jack invited, smiling.

"Well, for starters; what is he, like a Baron or something?"

Jack shook his head side to side, indicating a negative. "It doesn't work like that where he's from anymore, kiddo; well, not exactly. See, they got this thing in the Fraser Valley where each State kind of runs things the way they like, and then since they're all jammed in close together they get together like the UN or some shit to work out common issues. The whole thing was his idea."

"So it's similar to the Baron system we had going on here before?"

"Yes and no." Jack replied. "The Barony system had one code of law observed by all, right? Well up there each State runs their own affairs as they see fit, and none of the other States can does squat about it." Jack gave a light chuckle. "Hell, one of 'em is even run just like a Cammie Domain; but without having to answer to any of the other Cammies anywhere."

So far it matched up to Norton's claim. "How do they make that work?"

"Beats the hell outta me, kiddo" Jack shrugged. "Near as I can tell, Russ acts like a Moderator or something at what most of 'em call a Forum to help settle inter-state disputes and to deal with issues that affect the Valley as a whole."

"So this Russ Norton, he's like the boss of bosses."

"Not really" Jack said, taking a drag from his cigar. "From what I saw when I was up there, he can't tell anyone what to do. He just keeps them from killing each other at their Forums. Like I said, I don't know they manage, but it seems to be working for them."

Tyler nodded. It was sounding more and more like this guy was legit. "So this guy is on the level, huh?"

"As much as any of ever are."

"You wouldn't happen to know what Clan he is would you."

"That depends on who you ask kiddo. Ask him, and if he actually answers at all he'll tell you he's a Toreador. Some might say he's a Brujah, some would be sure he's a Malkavian. You might even find a few people convinced he's a Gangrel." Jack replied.

That suggested to Tyler he was most likely a Caitiff. While that did raise a red flag or two; if you believed all the Gehenna prophecies, but at the same time that exact same thing kind of made him smile inside. He could just imagine the shit fit Cammie would have over something like that.

"So maybe we should give this Republic system of his a fair shake." Tyler suggested.

"Well, you gotta do what you gotta do." Jack said, ashing his cigar on the floor. "You'd have to be careful though. The Ivory Tower doesn't take kindly to new ideas, and they might want your head on a pole in the sun for even trying to bring it in. They may even try to pass it off as some kind of Sabbat scam and call for a blood hunt."

"I'll keep that in mind." Tyler got up from the table. "Thanks, Jack; it's been good talking to you."

"Any time, kiddo" Jack called after him as he turned and started to leave. "Hey, come back and keep me up to date if you don't end up starting the Apocalypse!"

Tyler waved behind himself to the sound of Jack's cackling laughter. The old pirate was always saying things like and laughing it off. Experience had taught him that Smiling Jack also always had something cooking, and often it was messy – at least for the Camarilla. Usually it was best just to go with it; Jack might be a chaotic son of a bitch, but he took care of the people he liked.

As he stepped outside, he noted a parade of emergency vehicles rushing off to some place; probably a crash on one of the boulevards or something. It was just another pleasant night in the city of angels. He started towards Confession to check in with Venus and find out how things were going. He stopped short at the corner about a block away; the emergency vehicles were at the converted church. His nightclub was burning to the ground, and it looked like at least one body bag was being loaded into the back of one of the vehicles. Picking up the pace, he moved in as close as he dared with the flames still blazing; he was just another face among the looky-loos. He could hear fragments of conversation about what had happened:

"...some kind of gangster thing..."

"...owner got shot over money..."

"We're just lucky more people didn't get killed."

"The whole city's going to hell."

Tyler started to back away slowly, groping for his phone. He needed to call Damsel. They needed to get on this quick, especially if this was what he was starting to think it was. Of course it couldn't be. Boris was dead; Tyler killed that Russian slob himself. Still groping, Tyler could not find his phone. He must have left it on the charger.

 _How could I be so stupid?"_ He admonished himself, turning and running for the Hollowbrook; he had to resist the urge to break into Celerity right there in the street. Even without it, he made it home in next to no time at all.

Things went from bad to worse. For starters, the door was unlocked. That was a bad sign. Without a thought, he drew his .45 and pushed the door open hard in case there was someone hiding behind it. As he nearly threw himself into the suite, he heard the wall behind the door crack when the doorknob crunched through the wall. He whirled around to check the blind corners of the man room to find them empty. He scanned the room; it was completely trashed, but clear. He deftly crossed the main room to check the kitchenette to find it also trashed but clear; the same was true of the washroom. Whatever went down here, it looked to Tyler like it was one hell of a fight. Frantically he scanned the suite for his phone; it wasn't there. Whoever was here probably took it. That was bad; not only did it make it more difficult to contact Damsel, it meant that whoever took it might be able to access his contacts. He was always careful to not list any of them in the phone's memory, and always deleted phone logs, but someone who knew what they were doing with computers could easily work around that and his passwords.

Tyler cursed under his breath as left the suite and headed for the emergency exit into the alley behind the hotel; with all the activity outside, the last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself by being seen leaving a crime scene. He no sooner stepped into the alley when he heard the distinct _click_ of the hammer of a 9 mm glock being pulled back. He whirled around, pointing his .45 at a white guy with a flat face in a monkey suit.

"Igor sends his regards on behalf of his brother Boris, stupid American." The goon said with a heavy Russian accent. Even before Flat face could pull the trigger, Tyler broke into Celerity, grabbed the goon's arm and had it twisted behind his back, snapping it in several places in the process. The glock fell uselessly onto the pavement at their feet, and before Flat face could so much as whimper, Tyler snapped his neck with his free arm. Flat face crumpled at his feet, dead. In his head, Tyler admonished himself for not letting this Russian goon live long enough to answer a few questions, and then drew his .45 again in case there were more of them.

 _Pfft!_

The sound of a silenced shot fired from overhead rang out a fraction of a second before Tyler felt the elbow of his shooting arm explode, forcing him to drop his weapon, He barely had time to turn and look up to the roof to see a sniper take aim and shoot again; this time placing a round squarely in the middle of his chest. The velocity and the impact knocked Tyler off his feet as the round passed right through his body, chipping a couple of his ribs as it did. Sitting up on his ass, Tyler looked up again and saw the sniper train his weapon, a laser sighting pointing right between the eyes...


	4. Chapter 4

The body dealt with, Fenris drove the car back downtown, and then left Tyler on his own. Tyler really only saw one option; he had to hit the Last Round. He'd probably have to call for a Rant, not that he expected much just yet to come of it; at least not until he made it clear it wasn't about him or his Club. Once they knew it was about Damsel they'd more likely start to gather.

As he expected, he was still getting a lot of sidelong glances at the Last Round. More than a few seemed a little less offended by his existence; he guessed Jack had mentioned that he, along with X, was trying to come up with a way to undo some of the mistake they made. One or two even asked about the damaged wing. He spotted Marko in the bar, pointed him out to one of his more solid allies in the Clan and asked how long he'd been here.

"I dunno; about half an hour, maybe." He replied.

"Thanks" Tyler said. "I'll explain everything in a bit, alright? I just gotta talk to the Malkie for a minute first. Get the word around the place to be ready."

The ally grunted assent and strutted away. Tyler approached Marko's table. Sitting, he asked if his end of the matter was settled. He was counting on his attempt to speak Markonese to pay off.

"The Chunky patient is safely away, and he trusts his doctor completely." He pointed his thumbs at himself. "He is certain that all he has shared with his doctor will be kept in the strictest of confidence."

Tyler nodded slowly; this could be the hard part. "Right; I get it." He ventured. "I have no interest in his health issues, doctor. As a deputy to the city, I'm more interested in what triggered his activities tonight."

"He was looking for retribution over his brother who died ten years ago." Marko replied. Tyler suddenly realized why the sniper seemed to ring a bell; that fat slob of a security guard at the front desk of LaCroix's tower. "Since then, he has joined up with the Shiny Rock. He was also working for them tonight."

"What's the Shiny Rock?"

"They moved into the same building the first Chunk died in. Now they hunt us, and tell the world we're terrorists."

He meant the Feds. "So those Feds are Hunters." Tyler confirmed.

"Not really feds" Marko replied. "More like an outsourced private army. Even the feds think they are hunting terror cells. They play Masquerade too."

Tyler hesitated, trying to think what his next play should be. Given their offices, this would probably be more something Damsel should be in charge of.

"Damn it!" he blurted. "I wish to God that Damsel was here!"

"But she isn't." Marko said, pointing out the obvious, "Because she's there."

"That's real helpful Marko." Tyler commented facetiously. "Thanks a lot...wait a minute. What does that mean; 'she's there'?"

"The Shiny Rock has many pieces, and one of them took Damn Sail." Marko said very slowly, as if talking to a child. "She's still whole, but in distress."

That was enough for Tyler DeFaulte. He stood up, knocking the chair he was sitting in over behind him. He abruptly jumped up onto the table they were at, which overlooked what would have been a dance floor below. He scanned quickly and saw that the place was actually devoid of humans tonight; or at least was now. However the Clan felt about him and the mess he got them into by backing the Cammies, they still respected him enough to get everyone who didn't need to be there out. They got it done quickly, too. That was encouraging.

"All right, everyone" he bellowed over the music, which got turned right down to next to nothing. "We gotta work some shit out, and then we gotta get it together to get shit done!"


	5. Chapter 5

"You made the right call, Tye." Jack said clapping Tyler on the back as the Primogen watched Cameron exit the Last Round.

"Yeah; I know it." Tyler responded absently. In theory, after the impromptu rant the night before, Jack was absolutely right; his choice to turn Cammie away certainly helped forge a much better synergy with the Clan and was a step in the right direction to regain the Clan's trust. He still had a long way to go, though; and even as the Ventrue was leaving Tyler found himself having a doubt; like maybe he was failing to think of the long term play and thus missing the bigger picture.

"Hey, listen to me here, man." Jack said. "I got a piece of advice for ya. If you're gonna lead the Clan or anybody into shit, you gotta stop doubting yourself. You make a call and you stand by it; right or wrong. When those you're trying to lead start seeing self doubt, of course they're gonna lose faith in you too. Believe in yourself, and a lot of this division bullshit will go away; mark my words."

"What if I can't do that?" Tyler asked and promptly felt like a chump for it. The answer to that was obvious; he'd have to step down. The very fact that he asked at all underscored Jack's point. Jack scratched at his chin and stroked his beard thoughtfully. Finally he grinned in that world famous way of his.

"Then you fake it." He replied. "Hell, most of these dumb-asses wouldn't know the difference anyway." He let out a playful belly laugh, which afforded Tyler a light chuckle himself.

"Thanks, Jack," he said finally. "I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it."

"Well, it's time I got doing what I gotta do." Tyler said. "Right now, I got some shoppin' to do." He offered up a fist-bump which Jack accepted before he left the bar and made a B-Line for Fat Larry's Truck o' Mac.

Fat Larry (that's with an F-A-T because he knows he has a weight problem; he just doesn't give a fuck, or 'cuz there's more of him to love) seemed legitimately surprised to see him. Fortunately enough, it seemed to Tyler that the surprise was a pleasant one.

"Hey heyhey; there he is, my man!" Fat Larry greeted. "After that club of yours went up, I was startin' to get a little worried that my best customer was on his way to the tailgate sale in the sky! Shoulda known you was too bad ass to be taken out by few dozen Molotov Cocktails. Good to see you alive and kickin' my brother from another mother!"

"Good to see you too, Larry." Tyler said back; doing his best to ignore Larry's insistence on perpetuating stereotypes. He produced a healthy wad of cash. "I'm always happy to know I can count on you for all my needs."

"Yeah," Larry laughed. "Now, that's what I like to hear; you always know how to speak my language." He stepped aside and waved Tyler into the back of the cube truck. "Step on in and take a look around; if you need it I got, or I can get it within twenty four hours and that's my personal guarantee."

Tyler thanked the fat guy and stepped into the cube of the truck. He found most of what he was looking for right away: an AK-47 with the appropriate ammunition, a few balaclava masks, a hunting knife, a pair of cellular phones – a matching set, no less – and an aluminium baseball bat; he had an extra special plan for that. The only thing that he needed that he couldn't find was an EMP. True to his typical form, Fat Larry made a point of not asking who's lights Tyler needed to turn out; that it was prob'ly better if he din't know anyhow, but indicated he knew just the guy to set him up with that and would have it ready for by this time tomorrow night. As the transaction of goods for cash was being made, Fat Larry couldn't help but grin at the matching phones.

"I bet I know what this is about, my brother;" he said jokingly but not maliciously. "This is one for you, and one for that fine, fiery, and straight up P-H-A-T redhead I seen you goin' around with, ain't it?" Before Tyler could say a word, Larry chuckled warmly. "Matching phones, matching tones, that's one step away from a set of wedding rings, my man! I can get you some prime 24k gold with perfect stones when it comes to that."

That wasn't going to happen, but playing along served the Masquerade just fine, so Tyler shrugged internally and went with it. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, Larry. But, _if_ it comes to that jazz, I'm looking at you to be my best man."

After a little more playful banter of that ilk, Tyler took off and made for his car in the nearby parking garage. The last time he had to deal with the Russians, they were staying in Empire Arms; now known as the Cameron Arms after Cameron Hastings took over the ownership of the place. Cammie just admitted to having an association with the Russkie bastards, but Tyler already knew they were not in his hotel; not anymore. By now, they would have moved in to the new mansion built on the property once owned by Alistair Grout. He drove right past the hotel and hit road that would take him there.

On impulse, he turned on the radio and found, as always, that Deb of Night was on. Most of the chatter was virtually meaningless celebrity gossip tonight; which starlet was sleeping with which agent, some famous food critic suing some European Gourmet Pancake House for food poisoning, a segment about a special charity at the Nocturne theatre sponsored by the Vooreman Goodwill Foundation to protect women and children from sexual assault and abuse. Tyler was about to shut it back off again, just as soon as the tune that was currently playing finished up; it wasn't his usual preferred style, but a good blues riff from a punk fusion band from Vancouver or somewhere. The song ended, and Tyler reached out to shut the gibberish off when the gibberish turned into talk about Confessions. Speculations about what it was about varied, but most revolved around some kind of gang activity; rival street gangs messing with each other's hangouts, one organized crime syndicate attempting to cripple the revenue stream of another, most ran in that kind of direction. One theory that came up was it was a big insurance scam. That was laughable. There was also one guy who pointed out that the police are looking for a person of interest whom they believe to be connected to a street gang. It was annoying to hear that, but probably for the best; it served as a reminder for Tyler to keep a low profile until the LAPD give up on searching for him.

Along the way, it occurred to him that he should try and contact Archie, Betty, and X. His Clansmen might be out of reach by now, so that would have to wait for now. X ought to be on his way back; he may even be across the Oregon-California State line, so that shouldn't be a problem.

Selecting one of the two phones he just purchased (Larry had a charger in the back of his truck so his clientele would be ready to roll as soon as the sale was made), Tyler turned it on and pulled over to dial X. The Toreador picked up on the third ring and greeted him with a tentative hello.

It took the Brujah a second to register the reason for the almost reluctant sounding greeting; X was the type to keep a contacts list and have it on display. Then it hit him; his display would be showing a completely unknown number. That gave him an idea.

"It's me." He answered back. "Don't say my name. Trust me on this."

"Hey, you; I tried calling last night!" Xavier replied in just such a manner to comply with Tyler's wishes.

"I figured you might have. I had an issue with my phone, so I had to get a new one. For the time being I would advise against putting me in your contacts."

"I get it," Xavier said back. "So what's up with all that, anyway?"

"You'll find out when get into town." Tyler told him. "How far out are you, anyway?"

"I'd say maybe a couple of hours." Xavier responded casually. He laughed lightly. "I tell you, though; this has been one of the weirdest road trips I have ever taken in my life!"

"I'd love to hear all about when you get in." Tyler said, starting to lose patience with the small talk. "So you talked with our associate in the Valley up North." He more said as confirmation to get on topic than asked.

"I did." X confirmed. "So far he seems legit; he even met with Archie and Betty. Archie was wary as always, but Betty seemed a little smitten by the guy. At any rate, his network and model certainly appear solid; he even gave a free sample of sorts. It turns out he knew a little bit about our concern regarding the Feds."

"It's really a covert private army. I got that much. They mean to set up like a new anti-terror unit; even the government agencies that are partly funding them believe that."

X was quiet a second or two, and finally spoke: "Did you know that certain criminal organizations are in on it, too? This Brightstone thing is a lot bigger than we thought."

 _So that's what Marko meant by 'Shiny Rock'._

"I didn't know that." He said matter of factly. "Do we have any idea which ones?"

"The way Norton tells it, the group tried to gain a foothold in the Valley by way of the Russian Crime Syndicate." X answered. A cruel smile touched Tyler's lips. Now he had another reason to go after that son of a bitch Igor. He kept quiet as Xavier continued. "He also said that he and his crew of Libertarians ran them out."

"How'd they manage that?"

"This is actually the sweet part." X replied. "They used their media ties to turn public opinion against them; a little bit of spin and all of the sudden the new anti-terror unit is really a faction of secret police that are part of a plan to quietly build up to a police State. I'm willing to bet that Archie and Betty are working that angle in Seattle right now"

"That _is_ sweet." Tyler admitted. More importantly, he could already see a way to make a play out of that idea; a play that fit quite nicely with one of the strategies that the Brujah Clan had already begun to work out. Really the only problem was that play would have to start really quickly; they could not afford to waste time if Damsel was still whole as Marko predicted. "So listen up; you and me have gotta get our people together on this, and we gotta do it fast. Contact me when you're town. I gotta go and take care of something."

"I'll talk to you soon, big man." Xavier said, cutting the call off.

Tyler set the phone down and continued his drive to the Russian house. It probably wasn't the best time for this; his elbow wasn't quite fully recovered, but he sincerely felt that any delay would only make it harder for the retribution he was after to have the kind of impact he wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

Tyler was starting to think he must be more off his game than he originally thought. He had the sense to park well and away from the new Russian Mansion so he wouldn't be seen coming, but when he got a point where he could at least see the place with his own eyes, he realized he should not have tried to take this on all on his own.

To start with, there was a twelve foot retaining wall with a wrought-iron gate blocking access to the house itself. The wall and the gate by themselves wasn't much of a problem; he could jump that easy. The problem came in the form of the cameras at each of the faux turrets along the wall every fifteen feet or so, and the motion sensors placed between each of these camera turrets. He was a little surprised there was no razor wire along the top of each wall. Of course, the real problem wasn't about being able to jump the wall; the real problem was about not knowing what was waiting for him to deal with on the other side of the wall. Not just that, but he had no idea what the interior of the house was like; no inkling of its layout in the least. With God knows how many soldiers Igor might have in there, that put him at a huge disadvantage; vampire or not. The point was, he needed back up- or even more to the point, he needed reconnaissance. To get that, his first thought was to call Ajax; but then he remembered that he just told Cameron to shove his recommendation for Bertram to become Harpy where the sun never shines. It wasn't that he didn't think Bert could do it; it was only to show Cammie that his vote and endorsement couldn't be bought but only requested. It was to demonstrate to that Ventrue piece of crap that neither he nor his Clan would ever be owned by anybody. Despite his intentions, there was a good chance Cameron was all butt-hurt by the decline, and would pass word on to his Nossie pals. That meant that there was a good chance that Ajax was butt-hurt too. So Ajax seemed unlikely to help on this.

His next thought was to call Fenris. She was getting edgy and angsty like a teenage girl who thinks 'she has to do everything around here', but that was alright; he was pretty sure he had a way to get her to come anyway. He dialled her number. The phone on the other end of the line rang maybe four times before it cut off.

She hung up on him.

For an instant, his anger flared up like a droplet of grease hitting a flame. He understood she was getting fed up with getting called on so often, and that she probably was getting run ragged by Therese, but this was unacceptable. She could have simply said no. That would have been bad enough, but to not even take the call was outright rude. He barely restrained himself from hurling his phone against the wall; which would force to have to buy another one to replace the one he just bought. Then it hit him; she wouldn't know his new number. She probably thought it was some random asshole trying to make a crank or something. That or it was possible she was in the middle of something critical.

Ducking deeper into the tree line around the property to ensure he wasn't spotted by the cameras, he went to the messages option on his phone and dialled her again; this time leaving a text. Once that was done, all he could do was waiting for either a reply or for her to show up.

She showed up alright; and she was apparently in a playful mood. After playing a little shadow tag and nearly getting her head ripped off in the process, the two of them had a quick palaver about what breaching this house would mean and how it could end up helping Damsel. She gave him a breakdown on what she saw form her bat's eye view. As far as Tyler was concerned, the only real obstacle was the cameras and motion detectors; clear the wires and the dogs aren't much of an issue. The guards would be easy work. The only problem was getting in without being seen. Once past the wall, the rest was a piece of cake.

That didn't take the sting out of what Fenris had to say after agreeing to get inside house and deactivating the security system:

"Two things: You owe me for this, Damsel or no Damsel; and once I give the signal, I'm out of here. This is your thing."

All Tyler could do at that point was consent to her assertion. She turned into mist and was gone. Tyler waited. Waiting was one thing he hated more than anything else, and what made it worse was that every second he spent out here was another second that Damsel was in very real peril; assuming she wasn't ash already. Worse still, he had no idea one way or the other on that particular detail. Was this a rescue mission he put himself on, or was this a revenge thing? It would help to know for sure; it might change the tactic he used once he got that EMP from Larry. As it stood now, his instinct told him this was a little bit of both. What he wanted most of all from Igor was clarity on the current status of Damsel. As he waited for the Gangrel to do her thing, he was a little surprised at just how much Damsel had come to mean to him; he knew he cared about her, but right now her well being had preoccupied his thoughts even more than the destruction of his club, more than the sacking of the suite, even more than the gamble he was starting to engage in with X.

He tried to convince himself it was because of role as Den Mother; how crucial she was to the Clan. It was true that she was in many ways a key cog in the machinery that maintained their solidarity despite the rift his attempts at restabilising their role in the Camarilla had caused. But his need for her went way beyond that. It was even more than the fact it was her and Nines that really gave him a place in those early years. The death of Nines hit him hard; like losing a brother. The idea of losing Damsel was ten times as unnerving.

Finally, his phone buzzed, indicating an incoming text. _It's about time._ He read the message:

Cameras and sensors are out. Just heard a communication that sounds like they know something is up. Whatever you have to do, you best make it quick.

 _Good to know_ Tyler thought. In a sick way, it was actually a relief; if they knew something was coming, it could mean a fight, and he definitely had some aggression to work out. Seeing no harm in going in with a weapon at the ready, Tyler hefted the baseball bat before jumping up onto the wall, landing squarely between two of the cameras; one foot on either side of one of those motion detectors.

As if on cue, the dogs in the run below him began to bark and snarl at him angrily; jumping in vain and snapping their jaws, as if to dare him to come down. For the briefest of moments, he contemplated jumping in with the dogs to take them out; but then he decided he didn't have time for that. To do so would trap him in the run, anyway. Instead, he jumped over the run, clearing the chain link fence and razor wire easily. He hit the ground running, leaving the now frantic dogs behind him; one of them smashing the fence as he kicked in his Celerity and made a break for the front door.

By the time the guard at the door was two steps down from the stoop to see what got the dogs so worked up, Tyler was on him; taking one leg out with the bat and grabbing him in a reverse chin lock to use him as a shield as he backed into the front door in case any roaming patrols were close enough to come to the poor sap's aid. They hadn't, but he could hear two of them shouting as he bolted the door behind him and his hostage. The door guard was on the floor of the hall, nursing his shattered knee; in too much shock to scream. As Tyler strode to where he had tossed him, the guard desperately drew a handgun from a shoulder holster; Tyler knocked it aside contemptuously with the bat and picked him up by the collar to feed. He stopped just short of draining the guard completely dry; he had to admit, Igor fed his troops well. The guard nearly catatonic, Tyler tossed him aside like he was a paper cup. Next he grabbed the handgun – a miserable .38 – and pressed on through the entrance hallway towards a staircase leading up. Intuition told him that was where Igor would be. Nearly at the top of the steps, the roaming patrols finally got past the bolt on the door and burst in, Russian model shotguns at the ready. They spotted him on the stairs and charged after him; one of them getting in a shot that went wild before Tyler popped off two clean shots, nailing each of his would be pursuers evenly between the eyes.

Now he had no doubt his presence in the house was known. There was no telling how many goons would start coming out of the woodwork. He could hear troops starting to gather both above and below him; he had just enough time to run down and snag one of those shotguns with Celerity. He grabbed the one that wasn't fired yet and trained it upstairs just as the first of at least five men appeared. He squeezed the trigger and dropped him; the gun's report echoing in the spacious stairwell. From somewhere in the house he could hear another series of shots, followed by a shout of both fear and pain. Working his way back up the stairs, he dropped a second goon, and a third, and a fourth. The fifth was apparently a little sharper than his comrades; he fell back just enough Tyler could not get a clear shot. Halfway up the stairs, he crouched to retrieve his bat when he spotted yet another goon approaching from the first floor. The goon got a shot off, which Tyler barely dodged before returning fire, blowing the goon back about ten feet. The goon upstairs attempted to exploit the distraction with a shot of his own, missing by less than a hair when Tyler dropped to the ground; he could actually feel the heat of the round singe his hair, even under his do-rag. There were more screams downstairs. Tyler had an idea that Fenris had to fight her way out. It gave him a grim sort of satisfaction that she ended up helping him deal with these bastards after all.

Making a break for it, Tyler charged the rest of the stairs; avoiding getting tagged by the goon up there before taking cover in a water closet. Then he waited for the goon to make his move in order to get an exact bead on him. Incongruously, he wondered just how close X was to getting into town. As he watched and waited, he could hear more shots followed by shouts of anguish; this time from outside. He also heard those damned dogs yapping and then suddenly stopping. It would seem Fenris got out. He also pondered over calling X to see how close he was and if he could get here as back up. Since the Setite mess, the Toreador was reluctant to resort to violence, but that didn't mean he didn't have a talent for it. He was slow to get going, but once he did there was no stopping him; he seemed to almost relish in it.

Finally, the goon dared to peek out from behind a doorway across the hall. Tyler trained the shotgun and opened fire. The goon fell back with a cry that sounded to the Brujah like he got winged. Discarding the gun, Tyler moved in on the goon hard and fast.

It was some kind of home theatre room; a television nearly size of the wall dominated the east end of the room, and the goon was struggling to his feet from a couch on the west, brandishing a knife in his left hand. His right arm was limp and useless as his blood was blossoming furiously from his right shoulder. Tyler tossed the bat at him like a javelin, planting it neatly at junction of his collar bone and bad shoulder. Activating his Celerity yet again, Tyler produced his own blade and whipped it into the goons' good shoulder and rushed him, grabbing hold of him before the goon could fall. The goon dropped his blade. He was about to ask the goon which of these remaining rooms Igor was holed up in, but saw the man was so close to bleeding out it would be pointless. He actually felt bad for this goon; he put up a reasonable fight. Figuring the guy deserved at least a little better than a bleeding out death, he broke his neck to make his end quick. He collected his weapons – leaving the goon with his rifle, he earned that much – and set himself to do a room by room search.

There was no need. Tyler barely stepped out of the Theatre room to see a dead ringer for Boris standing at the end of the hall with a museum piece of a rifle pointed at him. He ducked back into the room just as Boris version two pulled the trigger with a near deafening report. Tyler scrambled out of the room and dashed down the hall as the Russian retreated into a room on the right side of the hall, latching the door behind him. Bat in one hand and knife in the other, Tyler kicked the door; knocking it off the top hinges and leaving it hanging open as he dropped his weapons and tackled the Russian and pinned him to the floor, the rifle getting tossed across the room in the process.

"Let me take a wild guess." He said with a mock-calm that made it clear he was about ready to go ballistic. "You're Igor, right?"

"I have no further business with you." Igor said, trying to sound tough, but actually sounding desperate. "I made a deal with Mr. Hastings, and the matter I had with you is closed. Get out of my house and pray I do not advise Mr. Hastings on what you have done here tonight."

Tyler laughed derisively, barely containing his temper. "You can take your deal with Mr Hastings and shove it straight up your fat, Vodka and Borscht swilling ass! This isn't about that, Igor. You're going to tell me everything you know about the Brightstone Building."

This time Igor laughed. "So you can go try to save your little girlfriend?" He muttered something in Russian; Tyler had the idea it was something profane. "I will tell you nothing."

"You're so wrong about that, Igor," Tyler started to say when he heard the unmistakable sound of two dogs growling behind him. He thought for sure Fenris would have gotten past them. Igor spat in his face.

"Do not worry," Igor said, smirking. "Soon enough you will see her; and when you do, you will not want her anymore." He then shouted something in his own language; presumably a kill command for the dogs.

Less than a second before the dogs began to howl and bark angrily, Tyler was sure he heard another bark above them. The important thing was that neither of the two moved in on him; they just stood there, barking sharply even after Igor repeated his command a second time. Then there was another distinct noise like a bark, and both stopped promptly.

"On the bed, both of you" Fenris said from just outside the room. Without another sound, both Huskies leapt onto the bed just behind the two men. Both dogs then began to watch; eyeing the Russian with what could only be described as a look of discontent and hate. "As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't leave you high and dry." Fenris said finally. "Just finish up so we can get the fuck out of this place. We've stunk it up enough already."

 _Good kid_ Tyler thought. Just for good measure, he broke out with his Presence. "Now, Igor, tell me about the Brightstone building; and don't hold back on me if you know what's good for you." He said almost gently.

Igor spilled his guts; what they had done to Damsel, the new floor plans, what their agenda was, and everything he knew about the Brightstone operation. Once Igor was done talking, Tyler thanked him, bared his fangs, and bid him a good night before biting into his soft flesh for a parting snack.


	7. Chapter 7

All heads turned as the Clan came in to the Garden; in marching-lock- step, in uniform as provided by Jack. Somehow he had enough influence in the Navy to procure formal outfits for select members of the Clan on very short notice. It was perfect. By the look in most of the eyes that fell on them, the majority of the crowd likely assumed the outfits were intended to be some kind of mockery of the Gathering. Their gazes- most profoundly shown by both Cammie and Therese – suggested the general thought was this attempt was really only succeeding in Clan Brujah embarrassing themselves.

 _Fuck 'em._ Tyler thought as he brought up the rear of his Clan while they filed in such a uniformed, disciplined manner that it did seem a little like parody. _If that's what they wanna think, let 'em._

Truth be told, the uniforms had absolutely nothing to do with the Gathering; the Gathering simply got called at an unfortunate time. The uniforms were meant to serve as part of their Damsel extraction plan. A couple of Brujah had a rare trait among the Kindred that allowed them to pass for being completely living mortals; as far as anyone could determine, this condition would even get past any technological detection hardware that Brightstone light have. This was what Tyler was figuring based on what Igor told him the night before. It was a long shot, but it could prove to be a way to get in the door.

The idea was this; the two Brujah with this condition would come in dressed in Navy formals with Tyler, under the premise he was captured by Naval Officers on the docks. One of them would carry the EMP, and the other would have weapons for Tyler. Tyler and his captors would then be led to detention, and along the way, the EMP would be set off, rendering Brightstone HQ deaf, dumb, and blind. This is when the remaining Brujah, also geared up as Navy men, would flood in to run interference as Tyler pressed forward to retrieve Damsel from the labs in the bowels of the complex. He knew the layout, so even with the diagrams he quickly threw together; he was really the only one who stood a chance of avoiding getting lost. The plan was sketchy, but Tyler found that usually worked out best; this left lots of room to improvise when things went wrong. Some might argue that more careful planning would avert that contingency, but to Tyler's experience no matter how careful and perfect a plan may be laid out, something always went wrong. Better to keep the plan open and adaptable; this way the whole matter at hand is likely to go sideways.

Once at the Gathering, Tyler made a point of touching base with X. The Toreador went into a little more detail about his meeting with the Anarch Russell Norton. From the sound of it, this Norton guy was basically legit. Apparently he may well be in LA with his band, and that would be a chance to hear the PR line for himself signing off on anything. That was good to know; with this Damsel thing going on, he didn't want to agree to take on any sort of game changing initiative, or hold a rant on one just yet. The Clan was just starting to gel again; yeah they had a bunch of different ideas, but that was part of their strength. It kept them diverse and fresh especially if they could still hold it together as a Clan when it counted. He couldn't just throw them into a whole new idea unilaterally, and this new thing had a better chance of going through if he could get results tonight.

He told X that, and X nodded appreciatively.

"I get it." He said. "It's kind of like how it goes with the Toreador, except maybe a little more direct. In fact, I was just the other night musing on that in some ways I envy the Brujah in that you don't often hide behind social niceties and such; you typically just say what is on your minds with no holds barred. So yeah; take care of what you have to take care of. We can wait for Norton to make his pitch himself. Meantime, let me ask you; do you need an extra body for your mission? If you do, I volunteer."

Before Tyler could reply, Fenris called the Gathering to order. Very shortly after that, Therese called him out on the missing Sherriff. Before answering, Tyler looked at Fenris and mouthed the words "What the fuck?"

"I had to say something" the Gangrel mouthed back, shrugging.

Figuring that what's done is done, Tyler explained in a thumbnail that the matter was being handled and should be resolved tonight. After that, the real matter at hand got kicked off. Cammie tried to glaze over the assignment of Bertram Tung being named Harpy, glancing at him when informing the Gathering that he had an _almost anonymous_ Primogen endorsement. Then Bertram stopped the show by hinting that maybe he didn't even want the job. If he was able to, Cammie would have begun to blush with indignation. Therese spoke her apparent displeasure at Bertram throwing her olive branch back into her face.

"I'm not throwing anything anywhere, Sister." Bertram countered. "I'm asking your Seneschal a simple question; did he or did he not bother to confirm whether I even wanted the position? Or did the two of just assume I would jump at the chance to let you place me in nice little pigeon-hole?"

That caught Tyler's attention. It sounded to him like Bertram was on the same page as he was on such matters. He decided it might not be a bad idea to see about getting the Nosferatu on board, or least try to keep them completely neutral until the dust settled. When it came to book smarts, Tyler figured he was near the bottom of the stack among his peers in the Council, but then there was what some might call street smarts, but he preferred to think of as field smarts; that was a whole different thing, and on the field, Tyler DeFaulte was a Playmaker. Any Playmaker in the field would know that when it came to folks like the Nosferatu, their claims of neutrality really meant something more like mercenary – or at least merchant – their allegiance would ultimately go to the highest bidder. When it came to making bids, being able to illustrate a desire for similar ends and mutual good in the long Play could go a long way; especially with the Kindred.

"Very well, Mister Tung," The Prince said coldly. "The offer is now being made to you for the office of Harpy in my City. The majority of my Court is in consensus with the Seneschal that you would be the ideal candidate, and we extend our hand to welcome you to sit among the officers of this Court. Do you accept?"

"I do not." Bertram replied simply.

A gasp washed over the crowd, followed by a silence that could have been cut with a blade.

"I see." The Prince broke the silence. Although he had an idea that she was trying to convey both disgust and indignation, Tyler was sure he heard a hint of relief in her voice. This wasn't much of a surprise if one took into account the history between the Prince and the old Nosferatu, but it struck Tyler as a little bit hinky. "If you don't care about our social economy enough to do your part, then I suppose that is your right. Just bear in mind, Nosferatu, this shirking of your duty to this city will be remembered for a very long time."

"Hold on, sister; don't go straining your lemonade through your panties just yet." Bertram countered. "This isn't about whether or not I care about the social economy. This is about me giving a damn enough to make sure things get done right in this court. This is about making sure that neither I nor anybody else becomes some puppet for you to pull the strings of on whatever whim you might think up."

Tyler liked this scenario more and more. Cammie looked about ready to set his Metro spiky hair on fire, and Therese's face was scrunched and screwed nearly sideways. Her jaw was clenched as tight as a funeral drum and her eyes blazed with the flaming fury of a despot gone mad. If ever there was a look that screamed a warning of an oncoming frenzy, this was it. Tyler cold feel it everyone around him; they were all bracing for whatever fallout might come when Therese lost her shit.

"Your Highness," Fenris stepped forward from her hidey-hole. "Who will be Harpy now?"

Therese spun to face the Gangrel and lash out, but then almost immediately it seemed her rage began to subside. It appeared as if the child-like manner in which Fenris made her inquiry appealed to something in the Prince. _That had to be it._ Tyler thought. _I mean, Fenris would never use a discipline to quell the Beast in Elysium, would she?_

Sarcasm aside, though, it was effective. The demeanor of the Prince softened considerably.

"Yes, you're right Fenris." She agreed, speaking almost like a parent would to a child who only barely understood a complicated situation. "What matters most right now is naming a Harpy to maintain and record the workings of our economic status."

"With all due respect, Highness," Danielle spoke up. "I would be willing to step down as Primogen in order to take on the role. Though I may not have direct experience, I have a strong background in transferable skills."

A quiet murmur swept the crowd. No outright objection was spoken, but the feel in the air was that this would not be best fit. Ironically, it was Cammie, the Ventrue of all Ventrue, who finally did speak.

"Although your enthusiasm is admirable and your loyalty will be remarked, the drawback with that is then we'd need to find a new Primogen. That said, your bid is noted. Are there any other bids?" He said.

"If it pleases the Court..." Velvet spoke, barely above a whisper. "I put my bid in for the office of Harpy."

Cameron shot Tabetha a furtive glance. Tyler followed his glance and noted that Tabetha cracked a Mona Lisa smile. Up until that exact moment, the Brujah Primogen thought the two of them as close to being joined at the hip as they could be without making the beast with two backs. In that moment, though, it seemed like there was a kind of rivalry going on; a break in the Camarilla ranks, maybe? Whatever it was, it was looking like Tabetha was winning this round.

Cameron cleared his throat.

"Again, the enthusiasm is admirable, and it pleases this court very much to see not one but two very capable Kindred willing to step up to a task that is not for the weak. However once again we have an issue that could lead to burnout. While your service as Keeper of Elysium has been meritorious, Miss Velour, the last thing we would want is to overburden any one member of our community."

"Well, wait a second Seneschal." Tyler jumped in. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't other Domains seen the combination of the duties of Keeper and Harpy work out pretty good? Why should LA be any different?" He figured it couldn't hurt to have as many allies as possible on his team should the Brujah opt to make a Play, whatever that Play may be.

"Yes, Mr. DeFaulte, such a union of duties has been successful." Therese agreed. She shifted her eyes to Velvet, and to Danielle. "Both of you step forward, please."

The Keeper and the Ventrue Primogen stepped forward.

"The both of you have placed bids in for the office of Harpy in the City of Los Angeles." She stated. "Both of you have proven yourselves loyal and have provided worthwhile service to this City and my Court. Before we continue, I ask the Court for any more bids?" This call was met with silence. "Are there any objections – aside from the Seneschal's Caveats?" This was also met with silence. "Very well; then I shall consider both bids very carefully, and will be granting each of you audience to present your case as to why you should be considered the ideal candidate. You will each have one month less a week to prepare yourselves. In one month's time, I will have my decision. Until then, I call for an economic freeze."

The declaration was greeted with an obligatory groan of dismay, but nobody really objected.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening." Therese dismissed the Gathering.


	8. Chapter 8

Anyone who had ever felt as if they were being set up would know exactly how Cameron Hastings was feeling. It was no secret that Therese and Bertram had a long standing rivalry. That said it still made no sense that Bertram would turn his nose up to the office of Harpy. The Prince was willing to accept the old Nosferatu as Harpy in order to keep a close watch on him, but that was a begrudging acceptance at best. There was no way Bertram couldn't know that and simply be chomping at the bit to have a chance to rub Therese's face in it on a nightly basis; the drawback of being watched was small in comparison of the benefit of knowing Therese would have no choice but to face him regularly. Besides, with her eyes on him, they would be off of the rest of the Clan. So why did Bertram snub the offer? The reasons he gave were plausible, but unlikely; Cameron's instincts told him some trickery was afoot.

Somehow the Prince had tricked old Bertram into refusing. It was the only answer that made any sense at all. As for how that was possible, there was again only one answer; it had to be Jeanette at work here. She was the one that had Bertram on her leash. The question that needed asking was who was it Jeanette was really working against? Was she trying to make things difficult for her 'Sister'? Or was this a move against the 'Dirty Duckling'? In short, was Jeanette trying to sabotage him, or her alternate identity?

As the Gathering was closed down, there was one saving grace in that Therese froze the economy until a Harpy could be officially chosen. In a manner of speaking, the fact that a decision needed to be made was a bit of a coup for him as well; it meant that he had a chance to uncover and thwart whatever it was that witch Tabetha was trying to accomplish. The moment Miss Velour announced her bid for Harpy, Cameron knew straight away that it was the Tremere Primogen that put her up to it; or at least put the idea in her head. When they discussed the best way to handle Strauss, the former Regent and Harpy being recalled – presumably for treason against House and Clan Tremere – Tabetha initially recommended the Toreador Keeper of Elysium. Now Bertram was declining the offer and Velvet was making a bid to counter Danielle's bid.

There was no doubt about it. Tabetha Toussaint was up to something. Was she setting up to challenge for the role of Seneschal? Or was she just flexing her muscles to show that she was capable of getting her way? That annoying little smirk on her face was difficult to read for certain. What was even worse was she was wearing her tinted glasses, which made reading her eyes all but impossible.

Imalia and Bertram were quick to leave the scene entirely; making it difficult to discern what was going on with them. In fact all but two Nosferatu vanished from sight almost immediately. In little more than a blink the only two left were Ajax and Walker, and even they took to shadows in order to have a modicum of privacy.

Xavier and the big guy were certainly cozy enough. Clearly something was afoot there. Cameron made a note to ask Kaila about that. Their exchange was brief, but certainly friendly before Tyler led his Clan out; presumably to take care of their little mission to extract Damsel. On his way out, Tyler took a second to shoot a smarmy wag of his head at him. Of all things that went wrong tonight, that was not one of them; that cockiness told him that the Brujah had absolutely no clue what he was getting into. One very short call and the big guy's Rabble would be having a very bad night.

"You look much too troubled, lover." Kaila whispered in his ear. "Here you are, standing up here on the stage all by yourself, like the one assigned to hold the weight of the entire city on your mighty but weary shoulders. Let me help you bear the burdens you're forced to bear."

Cameron faced the Toreador, attempting to smile for her sake. "It's not the weight itself that makes it all a burden, my dear." He responded. "It's the manner in which those that expect me to carry them struggle as if hoping I will drop the load. They so insist on working against me even if what I'm doing is what is best for all of us."

"Of course they do, love. The masses always tend to hate and resent a winner. They love to see the successful fall and fail; it justifies their own inadequacies. The truth they are hiding – even from themselves – is that they are jealous and they fear you; even her highness fears your full potential. She knows all too well that you could easily take her authority away from her. She needs you because you are the one with the true power." Kaila said.  
"But before I start laying all of that all too thick so it seems like I'm blowing smoke up your ass, let's leave it at that; how can I help you in way that's actually useful?"

If his heart still beat, and of course if he had the convenience of having actual possession of it, Cameron was sure it would have leaped in his chest. Kaila's loyalty was truly touching. It was in that moment, right there on that stage as the others in attendance started to make their way out of his Garden that he was certain that this Toreador with her steadfast solidarity was the heart of his heart. It made him almost giddy to think on it; not since his first high school crush back in Canada did he ever remember anything like this feeling. Come to think of it, he realized, his days in the sun as a mortal were starting to more and more seem like a dream; a vague vision that quickly faded from his mind. Not that any of that really mattered with this beauty at his side.

"My dear," he said, turning to face her fully, "your loyalty alone gives me strength to continue and prevail over all." He smiled and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. Though he was very much aware how juvenile his sentiments were, he didn't care; time seemed to freeze right then and there, and all that mattered was the fact they were together.

"Now who's blowing smoke?" She asked in her trademark flirty voice. Standing up on tiptoe, she kissed him and then pulled back quickly. "Now I'll continue to show loyalty and let you get back to your work."

Cameron opened his mouth to object; to assure her that whatever he had to do could wait, but she gently placed her index finger over his lips.

"I'm flattered that you would be so willing to put me ahead of everything else, but that would not be reflective of what I love about you." She stated. "Your greatest asset and strength is your sense of duty. Besides, this city would likely fall to pieces if left entirely to that Malkavian Prince. Yes, I want you, but your city needs you – whether they realize it or not."

"Well, I suppose I should bring the Clan together to build a case for Danielle's candidacy." He agreed.

Kaila slowly stepped away. "By all means" she bowed. "Meanwhile, I'll keep tabs on Velvet to keep you in the loop of her campaign."

"Thank you," he said after her as she slithered away. It occurred to him that this might not be a loss after all; the Toreador Keeper and the Tremere Primogen may have taken on much more than they could handle. With Kaila feeding him information, Cameron was certain he bring them both down. It was true that Miss Velour was probably his greatest rival as far as influence is concerned. If he was careful, he may be able to not only engineer her failure to become Harpy, but unseat her as Keeper of Elysium as well. He already had Kaila picked out as his favored replacement.

With a spring in his step, Cameron Hastings turned away and headed backstage. Taking out his phone, he dialed the contact number Igor gave him for Dmitri.


	9. Chapter 9

Pinstripes shouted something in Russian. Tyler didn't speak the language, but had a pretty good idea that it was something to the effect of 'WHAT THE HELL?'

"Switch out weapons!" He ordered, pointing to the men in the watch-points and waving them down. "You go outside to hold off their allies." He pointed to some of the men on the floor. "You take care of these three monsters!"

As if on cue, all three of them sprang into action. Tyler snapped his cuffs off and broke free of the guy who had grabbed him. Once free, he charged forward to gain an early attack on Pinstripes. Rick gave his handler a hard shove, just as Tom knocked his handler flat on his ass. He heard three shots ring out almost simultaneously, but paid no heed just yet. There was something different about Pinstripes; something in the way he carried himself that bugged Tyler. It told him that this guy had to be taken down quick. It was like he was something other than human; not Kindred – not quite. It was like he was something else completely.

For his part, Pinstripes steeled himself; making ready to try and grapple Tyler. Too bad for him, Tyler had something a little more impact oriented in mind. At the last instant before getting to the Russian, Tyler activated his Blood to kick in Celerity, adding a quick burst of momentum as he crashed into Pinstripes with a shoulder tackle. He didn't quite get the result he was looking for. Instead of dropping him, Tyler found himself carrying the Russian a couple of yards. Running into him was like hitting a wooden post. At least he heard the unmistakable clatter of the katana hitting the tiles at their feet. That was good; Tyler would have the edge in straight hand to hand combat, whatever this guy was. They smashed into a wall, Pinstripes let out a sharp gasp as the air was forced out of his lungs from the impact. Tyler let him go. The Russian sucker punched Tyler, landing a solid blow across the jaw. This guy was definitely a little more than human; maybe a ghoul, even though that made no sense. That would mean these vampire hunters were working for a vampire. Grinning, the Russian went for another blow, this time to the body. Tyler caught it mid swing, grabbed the other arm and pulled the Russian into him, raising one knee to plant it firmly into his solar plexus before shoving him back into the wall, hard. For the sake of humanity, Tyler didn't want to kill the guy; he held back the full extent of his strength. The way Pinstripes was shaking everything off was starting to think that maybe that was a mistake.

Tyler heard at least one other gunshot, probably a .45, as he threw a straight punch at the Russian's face. The Russian easily ducked the blow, and Tyler's fist slammed into the wall as Pinstripes slipped around behind him, landing a back elbow into his kidneys. He then grabbed the back of Tyler's head and planted him face first into the wall, right in the exact spot he just made a hole. There was a momentary break in the action. Tyler heard a shriek of terror, someone screaming about his eyes, and the closest sound to him was a distinct noise that he knew all too well from living in poor section of New York City; even with a football scholarship he was very familiar with that sound, he heard it a lot growing up. It was the click of a switchblade being opened up.

This asshole is really starting to piss me off. Tyler thought, feeling his rage build up unlike he had allowed in awhile. This started as a straight up fight, and now this prick, which had a numbers advantage, was looking to knife him the back! What a chickenshit move! He whirled around at blinding speed and grabbed Pinstripes by the neck, and continuing the spin he was already in, pinned the Russian against the wall. The switch fell to the floor, and Tyler kicked it absently away as he tightened his grip on the Russian's throat, cutting off his air supply. Tyler bared his fangs as Pinstripes kicked at the wall in a futile gesture to struggle free of his grip.

"Let's see you shake this off, asshole!" He hissed. It was hard to believe just how good it felt to watch this guy's life go dark as he gasped in vain for even a hint of air. Tyler smiled cruelly as he watched the Russian's face start to match the shade of his driver's coat. Somewhere behind him, he heard someone cry out that Dmitri was getting killed. Since he heard first two, and then just one step of footsteps coming his way, he guessed that Pinstripes here was Dmitri. Wait for it... He told himself. He waited until Dmitri's buddy was practically on top of him before flying his left elbow back sharply. From the crunching noise, Tyler figured he got him square on the nose.

It was just enough. In that fraction of a second, Tyler was able to regain humanity enough to realize what he was about to do. He loosened his grip and knocked Dmitri cold with a left jab just as another gunshot rang out and a thin shroud of mist began to seep through a nearby elevator door.

Tyler had a minute to scan the scene. Dmitri was out, at least for now. His buddy was starting to gain his feet, clutching his nose. Most of everybody else was down; goons were strewn about, one probably permanently blinded with glass shards in his eyes. Rick was down with multiple gunshots. Tom was staked. One goon was still up, clutching a smoking .45 above Ajax (when the fuck did he get here?), apparently not noticing that the Nosferatu was already starting get up from his gut shot. Outside, it almost looked like Brightstone and Brujah were working together on crowd control. Following the mist, the sound of the elevator doors being opened manually; this was followed by about half a dozen more goons filing in.

Ajax nailed the goon above him with a low blow, probably sterilizing him for life, and got to his feet.

"Well, I guess we're really screwed now." Ajax commented as he healed his wounds to prepare for round two. Tyler couldn't tell if he was sincere or not – nor did he much care. The point was it seemed their fight was far from over. Cracking his knuckles, he got ready for another round with this fresh set of goons.

The goons fanned out in the room as they poured out of the elevator, and the other two elevators which flanked the first one that got opened began to open too; it was starting to look like Ajax was bang on, whether he was being sincere or not. Then he saw what was really happening.

From each of the other two elevators, a few more goons came out, followed by a bunch of vagrants, which looked even more dazed and worked over than usual.

"Clear the way, boys," a weak voice came from the middle elevator. "Once we're clear, you'll want to go out and help your buddies with crowd control. When that's all settled, you'll want to think long and hard about resigning just on fucking principle."

"You heard her!" one of the goons shouted with some degree of authority. "Let's get this mess cleaned up! Move it!"

The goons scrambled and started getting to work. Tyler snapped his attention to the middle elevator and saw Damsel standing at the entrance, using the frame for support; her beret was missing and her hair was a tangled mess. She looked famished. Tyler hustled to her. She took a step forward, stumbled, and fell into his arms. Ajax helped Rick to his feet, who told the Nosferatu he was okay to walk; already starting to heal. Rick indicated Tom and had Ajax take care of him.

"What the hell is going on?" Tyler asked. He'd been with Damsel long enough to know not to ask if she was okay; if she was still standing, even assisted; she was still in the battle.

"These jerks have been taking me like a steroid." Damsel replied with a scowl. "That makes them almost like ghouls. It's not enough to have a permanent effect yet, but they are in enough of a thrall to take my orders now that I can give 'em."

Tyler, shocked, spoke his objection without a thought. "We can't have a bunch of blood slaves running around. The Masquerade..."

"Shut up for a second!" Damsel cut him off. Even in her compromised state, the Den Mother had a strong degree of authority to her. Tyler caught on she was using a touch of her Presence abilities to boost her sway. "They haven't been on me long enough to do any damage. If I cut them off now they'll have a hangover for awhile, but they won't have any permanent side effects; especially since the overall effect is spread so thin. Just get us out of this dump and back to the Last Round."

"Where's Fenris?" Tyler asked. "She was part of this operation."

"She misted out of here, dumbass!"

Ajax had Tom in a fireman's carry, and Tom was standing next to him. "Everyone, get close to me," Ajax called. "I can get us out undetected."

"What about cameras and shit?" Damsel called back.

"Not a problem, babe." Tyler replied as he helped her to where Ajax was standing. "We used an EMP to kill the power. All electrical devices in here are fried. Even better, any electronically stored data they had on us is obliterated."

Gathered around Ajax, The Nosferatu raised an Obfuscate cloak around them and nodded to get them moving out the main entrance. Once they were clear, the goons that Damsel had in thrall moved out behind them, apparently oblivious to any of them, and started to aid in crowd control. They got to the van and Tyler drove them all back to the Last Round; the rest of the crew would join them once the crowd in the blackout zone was under control.


	10. Chapter 10

A lot happened in the two nights following the raid on Brightstone, LA; Damsel healed up and with her strength back she resumed her duties as Sheriff, and Archie and Betty were almost back from Seattle. By then, Norton was in town, setting up to so his gig at the Pit, and he, along with Xavier had a couple of god palavers with the Rock Star from the Valley. On hearing how his little model worked up north, Tyler thought it sounded solid enough; though he knew very well that there would still be conflict amongst his Clan over it. Jack made this meeting possible in the first place, so he wouldn't be a problem; at least there was that. He wasn't sure how Damsel would take to it; it could go either way with her. Betty was kind of into the whole Camarilla system, strangely enough. Maybe it appealed to her ambition or something; or maybe it was because Betty was more of a thinker/philosopher type and knew the Clan history and their role in building the Ivory Tower in the first place. Archie was just about opposite Betty as anyone could ever get; when it came to the Movement, he made both Damsel and Jack look like soft touches. If you could get past his brogue accent, he could quote the Status Pefectus word for word, chapter and verse from rote memory. A system like the one Russell Norton was putting forward would come off as diet Camarilla to him; that would be getting dangerously close to outright treason in his mind. What was even worse, Tyler knew damn well that Archie had quite a few backers that tended to agree with his sentiments on such things. That was definitely going to cause some friction. On the upshot, Norton's gambit with setting up the protests seemed to be working; slower than Tyler would like, but gradually it looked like the citizens' outcry against the installing of a police state in various Metropolitan areas was forcing the government to cut back their financial backing to Brightstone. At least, that's what all media outlets were indicating according to Deb.

Now, Tyler was at the Pit; waiting for X to come out from backstage and finish up his role as Club owner. It might be good to cut loose a little tonight, even if this wasn't exactly his scene. _The pressures of running a House divided..._

Tyler sighed. The whole scenario with his Clan kind of reminded him of his life before the embrace. All his life, he was always finding himself in a sort of a peacekeeper role in one form or another. He grew up in a poor neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York; living in a cramped apartment with his parents and his little sister. Dad had a hell of a time keeping a job; and that had nothing to do with booze or drugs. In retrospect, Tyler reckoned maybe a beer or two once in awhile might have taken the edge off. Mom managed a low paying job as a cashier in a fast food joint, and often came home in a foul mood. Fights in that small apartment were an almost nightly event. All too often, Tyler found himself in the middle; playing the role that would help keep the family as together as it was. As was the typical tale, he didn't do all that great in school, but he could play ball. He also learned he had a talent for rap. He never really got in too deep with the gang scene; he didn't really have time due to ball; learning how to make plays and lay down tracks. The school team was emotional; and once again Tyler was the one keeping them together and functional. And then there was his constant effort to keep his sister out of trouble. She was the real rebel of the family.

Despite his hectic schedule, he somehow landed an athletic scholarship. His athleticism caught the attention of the right people and he found himself in University. Once there, he once again found

himself playing peacekeeper of the team. He was surrounded by potentially great athletes which held back only by their egos. Academically speaking, he scraped by; but only barely. While at University, he ran into that brainchild Tabetha Toussaint once in awhile; she was super quiet and lived in her books. One thing, though, that probably even the Egghead girl turned Tremere didn't remember; she always made to the games. Back then, Tyler had the idea she was a little bit into him. Now he wasn't sure if she was into guys. Not that it mattered much one way or the other.

Meanwhile, the whole time, Tyler kept finding himself getting involved in campus causes; mostly as a face to put forward – it was like a little bit of celebrity.

Somehow, under his leadership, his team won state championship. That got the attention of some talent scout here in LA; who in turn got his attention one night. Within days, Tyler was on a plane, about to sign a contract. He finally made something of his life that could mean something! Once on the real gridiron he could use his status as a playmaker to do some real good on a national level; folks tend to listen more to the famous. It showed just how stupid American culture had gotten, but it was the truth.

Of course, that turned out to be ruse. The scout met him at the airport, then introduced him to a hot little number and left him to her. At first he presumed this was supposed to be a perk – a benefit of signing up on this team. He was wrong. She took him to a super-sleazy apartment in Hollywood and told him she had something to show him...

...and then he woke up like this. Within minutes the doors crashed in and they both were staked and next thing Tyler knew he was on a stage; a suit was greeting everyone and explaining how Kindred law worked in cases of embrace. Seven heads were taken off for breaking this law, and his, along with six others would have taken too if not for Nines Rodriguez. Then he and what the Kindred took to calling the 'Super Seven' got their crash course in what it meant to be a vampire. There were the plague bearers, the Sabbat, the damned Quei-Jinn, and last but not least that suit Sebastian LaCroix and fucking box. Later, Tyler learned that his embrace was deliberate; Isaac was working in collusion with Nines to build up a force to take out LaCroix. The idea was to let Therese and Jeanette keep Santa Monica – for those so institutionalised they couldn't let go of the Ivory Tower. It was meant to be a long game; it was still in play up until that Assamite killed Isaac and framed Damsel and then got Skelter and Nines while he was at it. Tyler's bet was that fucking Ventrue Cameron caught on to what Isaac, Nines, and even VV were up to and set up the whole thing. His problem was lack of proof. So now they had the hot mess they had now: Therese was Prince, Cameron was her right hand man, and the only ones who had the balls to do something about it were him and X. X tells him that VV is on board, but now she wants to basically be free state that does things Cammie style. Tyler had a feeling that wouldn't wash with the Brujah too well. Still, things seemed to be going in the right direction.

"Having heavy thoughts in that thick skull of yours, man?" Xavier said, plopping into a seat beside him on the bar. He had a good natured grin on his face; it was clear he meant no animosity in his barb.

"You're a funny guy." Tyler replied. "So tell me, what's the latest with the man backstage?"

Xavier told him. The latest was the Japanese were quietly backing out of Brightstone, so that meant the hunters were losing ground fast; Tyler already knew about that. As for the deal with Norton, it turned out he was in pretty tight with Debbie and had a good relationship with some of VV's friends, and knew Kaila very well. The way he told it, she was working Cameron on behalf of the Anarchs; she'd been doing the exact same thing all up and down the coast for some time. Her strategy was, apparently, to set the whole Hastings line up to fall as a direct result of their pride getting the best of them. They were supposed to get all fat and then complacent, making their Domains all soft targets for a synchronized coup.  
"Meanwhile, VV, Norton, Toreador all over the continent and even I will be focusing their influences and alliances on up and coming leaders in social, corporate, economic and political arenas." Xavier laid out. "This way, when the Hastings Dynasty falls, we can push their people out of the mortal forefront and put our own people in their place."

"How are you gonna manage that?" Tyler asked.

"We're putting our energy into educational facilities." X replied. "You know; schools, Universities, Colleges, Technical Institutes, that kind of thing. This way, by the time we get to the coup, the paradigm of the public will be one of our designs. There's an even better part; once we have control of the educational system, we can continue to shape the minds of the future to suit our needs. See, it's one thing to take control; it's another thing altogether to keep it."

Tyler wasn't sure he quite followed what he was talking about.

X tapped his temple, trying to think of a way to word it. Finally he brightened. "It's one thing to win a championship in sports. The real trick is being able to defend that championship. Think of Norton's strategy as a way to make sure we keep getting first pick in the first round of Draft Day. More important than that, all the drafts share our ideals even before they come in to play."

Nodding lightly, Tyler curled his lips into a smile. "It's starting to look like a win all around in the long run." He said. This strategy of Norton's sounded pretty solid; it might work out to be long game, but once it got moving it should work out just fine. The best part was the whole concept of setting up for allies, contacts, and influences for generations to come. Not only that, but with the success Archie and Betty had reported, the whole Brightstone anti-kindred army bullshit should be pretty much finished with. The branch in Seattle was done, other branches were going down fast, and the LA branch was shutting down as he and Xavier were speaking; the protest thing X and Deb set up following Damsel's rescue was working pretty much like magic.

"So what else is there to say about that Brightstone crap?" Xavier asked. "You have any more news from Seattle?"

""Archie and Betty report they've done all they could in Seattle." Tyler said. "They're heading back now."

"Good to know" the Toreador said, he paused, looked around, and raised his glass towards the entrance. Tyler followed his gaze and saw Tabetha wave back. Soon enough, X turned his attention back to the Brujah, as if ready to resume their conversation. Suddenly Tyler didn't much feel like talking. Yeah, that Tremere witch was one of the 'super seven', and he knew her back in New York, but lately she seemed off; he liked her well enough, but just couldn't bring himself to trust her.

From backstage, Kaila slinked her way towards them.

"Are we done, here?" Xavier asked in a non-hostile manner. The Brujah took the cue and left the Toreador Primogen to confer with his Clansman. Scanning the scene, he spotted Damsel just wrapping up with VV. She waved him over and went to her.

"Come on" she ordered before he could get so much a word in. "VV's set up a meet in X's office; I'm not thrilled with her proposal, but it does give up some latitude to get LA back to being a Free State. We're gonna work out some of those points with her now." She stomped across the floor towards the stairs. Tyler followed.

"Wait a minute," He said after her. "Let me see if I got this right; you're actually ok with Velvet claiming Praxis?"

"We're gonna make sure she ain't claiming shit!" Damsel replied. "If anything, once we compel her Majesty to step down, VV will be more like a Baron than a Prince. Like I said, it ain't perfect, but even a system like Isaac's was is a step in the right direction. If we gotta play the long game, then that's the way it's gotta be."

Tyler scanned the Club from the overhang that led to the office. Across from him, Cameron was seated at a Prime table on the patio overlooking the floor and the stage. Fenris was standing sentinel at the front door. VV wandered backstage as Kaila finished whatever matter she was discussing with X and made her way to the patio access steps. X was stepping up onto the stage; Tyler figured the show was about to begin. He looked around to see if he could get a position on Tabetha; gave up when he couldn't. It struck him as weird that she would be here in the first place. This wasn't normally the kind of thing she would come to; normally she'd be deep in her books or something.

"Hey, Tye, get the lead outta your ass!" Damsel called from behind him. He turned his head to see her standing at an office door. Taking a final glance around the floor and taking a quick note of the skylight overhead, he followed her into the office.

The room honestly put any office Cameron had to shame when it came down to it; a guy could pretty much live in it, let alone run a nightclub. One thing could be said for Xavier Vega; he knew how to decorate. With a touch of disdain, Tyler wondered if maybe VV had a hand in the decor and design; and then quickly dismissed the notion. X was a Toreador, after all; one couldn't really hold against one what was in their Blood.

"It's disgusting, ain't it?" Damsel asked. "What the hell does he need all this shit for, anyway?"

Tyler shrugged. "We can't really hate him for being a Toreador." He said. "If we do that, then we become the biggest hypocrites of all Kindred."

Damsel mumbled her begrudging assent to the point.

Beyond the door and downstairs, the band began to play. The crowd got into the show.

"Hey, you got people on that skylight, right?" Tyler asked.

"What do you think I am?" Damsel shot back. "Of course I do!"

Tyler put his hands up, palms out in a warding gesture.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" they heard Norton bellow from the mic downstairs; followed by the sound of breaking glass and the shrieks of the crowd. It wasn't the sound of excitement; those were shrieks of terror.

Tyler rushed to the door to investigate. Behind him, he heard the window behind Xavier's desk break as a grenade crashed through and rolled to his feet; he started to back away from it as it exploded, sending him charred and flying out of the office and onto the dance floor one floor down.


	11. Chapter 11

"This is BULLSHIT!" Damsel pointed out in her standard matter of fact way. "There is no fuckin' way in hell I'm gonna support a plan that puts that Cammie Ventrue piece of shit on the god-damned throne!"

Up until about an hour ago, Tyler and Damsel were on patrol; tracking down the remaining Brightstone hunters. Actually, for the most part it was a surprisingly easy operation; a lot of them still had Damsel's blood in them. All she really had to do was turn on a little bit of her Presence and their thrall drew them to her like flies to a corpse. After that it was just a matter of luring them out of sight. Again, with them in thrall to their unwilling donor, this was a relatively easy task. They were making some pretty good time on the affair when Archie's van pulled up beside them, and he told them Smiling Jack had called a Rant at the Last Round; right now.

It was at the Rant that Jack revealed he had an insider among the Nosferatu which filled him in what they learned from Mitnick's bugs in Vesuvius. The fact that the strip club fell into Xavier's hands after VV got ashed was no surprise. What mattered was the conversation those bugs picked up between X and his new best friend Russell Norton.  
According to his insider, Jack told them, that Whoreador Kaila has been playing the Hastings line and setting them up into places of power in the Tower all up and down the Coast. On top of that, it looked like Kaila and Norton were in bed together on this scheme. Their current goal, evidently, was to put Cameron Hastings in Praxis here in LA. The idea was to use the Hastings line to manipulate them into accommodating a Sovereign State for the Anarchs in a location near their respective Domains.

That was when Damsel made her stance on that plan abundantly clear.

"All they're doing is playing the Camarilla game." Archie said with calm that Tyler found even more unsettling than his usual bluster. Archie's Brogue was showing even more prominently than normal; that gave Tyler the impression of a bottle of Nitro just short of being agitated enough to blow the whole building straight to the moon. "That flies in face of everything Status Perfectus stands for. I won't have it." Archie looked at Tyler sideways. No words were spoken between them, but the message in that glance was clear; Archie didn't give a damn that Tyler was Primogen or that Damsel was Sherriff. All that he saw was that Tyler let the Cammies build back up again. The fact the Ivory tower had any presence in LA at all was his fault. As much as Tyler wanted to deny that, the thing was that in a lot of ways Archie was right.

"Speaking of Camarilla bullshit games," Jack interjected. "Tye, you're all cozy with the Ivory Tower Club and in on X's plan, right? How much of this did you know about?"

As much as Tyler wanted to get indignant and tell Jack to go fuck himself and his implied accusation, he couldn't blame Jack or any of them for their suspicions.

"I knew the idea was to work the Prince into a corner and basically compel him or her into accommodating the Anarchs with a Sovereign State completely separate from any Camarilla Domain." Tyler replied. He gave Archie a sidelong glance of his own. "Not some satellite community that ultimately answers to the Cammies; I mean an actual Sovereign State that can tell their neighbors in the Ivory tower to take their Court policies straight up their candy asses if we want to."

"So you didn't know that X, Kaila, and Norton were planning on using Cameron to make this happen?" Jack asked.

"If I knew that," Tyler replied, "I would have told them all to piss off."

"But what does it matter anyway?" Betty put in. "Who cares who's sitting in as Prince as long as it works out to our benefit in the long run?"

"It's the principle of the thing, lass!" Archie exclaimed. "The whole process undermines what the Movement is supposed to stand for!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Betty countered. "That unless we use guns and bombs and shed a shitload of blood to get our way it isn't right? What a crock! We blow them up, they'll come back at us; then we get back to them, and the whole thing goes around and around and nobody really wins."

"WRONG" Archie bellowed. "We win once the Ivory Tower is reduced to rubble everywhere."

"WELL THAT'S REALLY FUCKING GOOD!" Betty yelled back. "Did you think about collateral damage, idiot? Did you think about the toll that your approach takes on Humanity?"

"Did you think about the way the Camarilla enslaves humanity? Their ways are the exact opposite of Libertas and Humanitas; that's the core of what we stand up for!" Archie countered.

"Oh, I see." Betty shot back. "So what do we do? Do we count the humans caught in the crossfire as necessary sacrifices for the greater good? That's really humane. At least the way Norton and Kaila are going about it reduces the body count. Not to mention it's obviously been working."

Betty had a point; all up and down the coast there were certainly a lot of Sovereign States which seemed to line up with Hastings Domains. The Fraser Valley was lined up with Vancouver. Bellingham was lined up with Seattle. Salem lined up with Portland. There was also the Roseburg outpost and the holdings that Norton had in Sumas and Maple Falls. Then there was California; the state was real quagmire. San Francisco was a Hastings stronghold, and LA was starting to look like one; the rest of the state was a weird mix of Anarch States and independent territories. The truth of the matter was simple; as sleazy as Norton's methods were, they were effective.

"For all we know this Norton fucker is a Cammie ringer." Archie argued. "That makes his States a fiat arrangement." His point was also valid.

"Then we make them real as we go along."

"Again, all we're doing then is playing their game."

"Who the fuck cares about that if we win?" Betty countered; Tyler kept forgetting that Betty was about as Cammie as any Brujah in LA ever got. If nothing else worked out, he could just step down as Primogen and prop her up. "In fact, that's even better! We beat them at their own game, right?"

"Wrong again" Archie disagreed. "If we go down that road then we become the Camarilla in everything but name. That defeats the whole purpose of what we're trying to accomplish."

"Ok, that's enough of this." Tyler butted in, doing his best to dissolve the situation and bring his house together; it had been divided for far too long. Internally he knew there was a long way to go to mend all the divisions, but he had to start somewhere. He turned first to Betty. "You're right; to a point. Norton's methods are sleazy, but they are working. The Movement has lots of ground to stand on now, and that means there's ground to expand upon."

"This insight is coming from our Primogen!" Archie snarled. "Let's not forget that."

"You're right." Tyler agreed. "I am Primogen. Hell, the Brujah of LA signing up with the Camarilla was my idea in the first place. I really thought the Clan could re-establish itself as a Pillar and become a vehicle of progress and change from within."

Jack guffawed.

"Yeah, because that's always really worked out well before," Damsel commented, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"I get that now." Tyler said. "In fact that picture has been getting clear for awhile. That's why I hooked in with Norton and X in the first place. As I said, that rock and roll freakshow has some bullshit tactics, but they have gained the Movement a lot of ground. That said, I absolutely agree that standing behind Cameron is not an option. Like I said, the Movement had ground to stand on; and now it's time to use that ground to expand and take back what was originally an Anarch State anyway."

"How do we do that without a lot of bloodshed?" Betty challenged.

"I haven't worked that out yet." Tyler said. "Tonight that isn't the important issue. What matters tonight is we understand that as long as we remained divided we don't stand a chance. We don't have to agree on everything; just one thing. All we need to agree on is that the Tower needs to fall and Cammie needs to get gone. We can sort everything else out as we go along after that; so long as we aren't a bunch of dicks, we should be able to resolve whatever comes down the pipe."

"What about Xavier and his boy Norton?" Archie asked.

"That's something I can deal with." Damsel said. "We got a different kind a rapport, he and I. Besides, I kind of get what he's going through after losing VV."

"That's good." Tyler concurred. "What we gotta do with that is convince X that his buddy's way is a good jumping off point, but now it's time we start making our own moves."

A silence fell over the Rant, heavy and tense. For an instant that felt like a decade, Tyler wasn't quite sure what the reaction was going to be. Finally the silence was broken by a single pair of hands clapping. Tyler looked around the room to zero in on the source. It was Archie.

"It sounds and looks like our guy has finally seen the truth." He said.

Yeah, that's great; good for us." Jack jumped in. "Now before this turns into some kind of hug fest can we get to working on how we wanna go about running those Cammie assholes out of our city for good?"

A murmur filled the room that indicated a clear consensus to that notion.

"For starters, we already got the Toreador behind us, and the Nosferatu usually step back on this shit like Switzerland." Damsel attempted as an opening. "The way I figure, the biggest problem is gonna be the fucking Tremere."

"She's right" Tyler agreed. "The Ventrue pretty much go with the Tower no questions asked, but they'll probably go down with Cammie. As for the Malkies, there's no telling which way they go once we figure a way to oust Therese. It's possible to get Jeanette and Marko on board once big sister is out of the way. That leaves the Warlocks. As a rule, there's no way they'll jump ship, and I don't see them leaving LA without a fight."

"So we fight." Archie said plainly. "But there's one thing we need to consider; the Sewer Rats don't give away anything for free. If they told Jackie over there about Norton's little plan to put Cammie in Praxis, they gotta be gainin' somethin' for it." Tyler wasn't sure if Archie's Brogue was getting thicker as the Rant went on or if he was just becoming more aware of it.

"That's a lot easier said than done, Archie." Damsel retorted. "Their Magic can really fuck us up before the fight even starts."

"Is there a way around that?" Tyler asked.

"There might be." Jack spoke up. "Gather around kids; this is a long shot, but it's better than nothing."

With no small amount of reverence, the Brujah of Los Angeles gathered around the legendary Smiling Jack as he began to throw his ideas on how to handle House and Clan Tremere into the Rant...


End file.
